


there are ways to surpass life

by strandedonthemoon



Series: you can live in the heart of my computer [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Trailer, Hurt Peter Parker, I Blame Tumblr, I Don't Even Know, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Angst, Peter Parker Deserves Better, Peter Parker Has Issues, Peter Parker Has Panic Attacks, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark Is Peter Parker's AI, basically Tony dies and Peter makes him his AI, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2019-11-28 14:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18209372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strandedonthemoon/pseuds/strandedonthemoon
Summary: "M-Mr. St-Stark," he cried, burying his face into his hands. "I-I ca-can't do th-this any-anymore.""Do what, Pete?""B-Be he-here. With-Without y-y-yo-you."





	there are ways to surpass life

**Author's Note:**

> it's sad bitch hours again, people!
> 
> i found [this](https://the-great-escapism.tumblr.com/post/182018451187/look-i-wont-even-make-it-past-the-first-ten) thread on Tumblr and couldn't resist myself. this is NOT my original idea so credits go to... the thread, i guess?? for acting like a prompt?? idk just enjoy
> 
> this was originally supposed to be around five-thousand words long, but i split it into two parts because it made more sense that way. i'll post the next part soon dw ;)

It starts with this: a feeling settling somewhere in the back of his heart- an insight into the future- as he laid numbly in a hospital bed, just having come back from the Snap. It was small and feeble at first, so much so that he barely noticed it. Bur when it grew, it expanded into the depths of his chest and gripped at his breath.

He'd only seen Tony once after, when he first brought him back.  _You have nothing to be sorry for, Pete,_ his mentor had said then, tears in his eyes. _I do_. He stroked Peter's hair with the upmost care- as if he was afraid the boy would turn to dust again if he held too hard- even though Peter was gripping on to him as if his life depended on it.

Peter didn't understand what that meant then. He thought that Tony was sorry because he let the Snap happen in the first place, because he let the boy's body crumble into dust and his soul transported into the Soul Stone. He thought he was sorry about how long it took to get him back. 

What he didn't understand that there were worse things to be sorry for. There were worse things than not knowing what to do. 

The worst thing is knowing what to do and doing it. 

His heart hurt with the realization even before anyone told him; that did not stop the agony that ripped through him when Captain America limped into his hospital room, the Iron Man suit's mask in his hand, somber-faced and broken. It didn't stop his heart eating itself away, growing the hole in his heart further and further.  

There are worse things than not knowing. Peter can forgive Tony over and over again for not knowing. 

The worst thing is knowing, recognizing that it will hurt the ones you love, and doing it anyway.

 

* * *

 

 Peter had to admit that staying up two days in a row to delve into some absurd coping mechanism- that was definitely not approved of by the adults in his life and also his therapist- was probably not the best thing for him to do with his time. 

With that being said, however, he just couldn't sleep until he finished this, especially now that he was so fucking close. Who cares if he has been working on this non-stop for two weeks? It's almost done anyway. Then he can go back to his normal life. 

Or well, as normal as it's going to get from now on. 

He was so close. The programming code was already typed and downloaded into the suit; all he had to do was remove the wiring for Karen and replace it with his own. It was so simple, and he was _so close_. 

His vision blurred a little as he was connecting two wires together, and it took a second for him to realize it was probably from fatigue. Peter rubbed his eyes. 

"I-I can do this," he mumbled incoherently. But it was easier said than done; blinking seemed to last for a longer time every time he did it. 

Unsteady as his hands were, he managed to connect the last few wires together. 

He frantically took the suit in his hands and examined it for any anomalies, and when he decided that nothing was out of place, he put the mask of the suit on. 

"Peter?" he heard Aunt May say as he was just about to test the suit. "I'm leaving for work now, okay?" 

"Ok-Okay," he replied, taking the mask off and throwing it on his bed. He scrambled off his desk and poked his head through the door to find May, stood near the kitchen, packing her things into her purse before turning to him, a soft smile decorating her face. 

"When a-are you gonna be b-back?" Peter asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

His aunt gave him a look. She set her bag down and walked over to him, her hand reaching for the back of his head, her fingers weaving through his hair in an attempt to calm him down. "I'll be back before five, okay? Get some sleep while I'm gone and I'll be back before you know it."

Peter nodded, leaning into the touch and closing his eyes. Aunt May placed a kiss on the top of his head before releasing him, smiling sadly. 

"I larb you," she whispered. 

Despite himself, Peter let out a chuckle. "Th-That's s-so cringy, M-May."

She let out a little laugh, walking to her purse and picking it up. "Bye, Peter."

"B-Bye."

He waited to hear the door slam shut before going into his room again. His tired eyes wandered until they landed on his alarm clock.  _7:32,_ his clock read. 

Peter shook his head and rolled his neck to try and wake himself up. He sat on his bed and took the mask, slipping it over his head again; the latex material hugging his skin felt foreign, yet home-like. Somehow, he almost smiled- instead, he blinked a little and shook his head again. There was work to do. Scanning the mask, he went over the coding and the system to make sure everything was working the way it was supposed to. When he was satisfied, Peter took a deep breath.

"Tony?" His voice was barely a whisper.

Patiently, he waited for something to happen, fiddling with his thumbs in a show of anxiety, and his heart plummeted when nothing did. 

"T-Tony?" he tried again, a little louder. 

A whirl sounded from deep within the suit, and then... "Hey, kiddo. Glad to see you again."

Tears pricked his eyes at the sound of the familiar voice, and he brought his head to his hands. _Shit. It worked._ "H-Hi."

"Why so low, kid? You seem to be in what FRIDAY would call 'distress'. Is everything alright?"

Using the sleeve of his hoodie, Peter took off his mask just enough to wipe the tears off his face. "I-I'm fine. It's ju-just..."

"Yeah?"

Peter's hand shook as he pulled the mask back down. His lip quivered despite him not wanting to cry. "I d-don-don't-I-I-dammit."

"Peter, you gotta breathe. Just listen to my voice. In and out, alright?"

A sob tore its way out of his lips as he tried to catch his breath. " _T-Tony_."

"In, and out."

"M-Mr. St-Stark," he cried, burying his face into his hands. "I-I ca-can't do th-this any-anymore."

"Do what, Pete?"

"B-Be he-here. With-Without y-y-yo-you."

"Kid, I'm right here."

" _No_. No. You-You d-died, T-Ton-Tony. T-Trying to-to save m-me."

"Hey. It's ok-"

Peter ripped the mask off and threw it across the room. He buried his head into his pillow, something blooming in his chest; his hands were shaking.

"It's okay to be angry-" he heard the AI say across the room. 

"S-Shut up!" he cried, his voice muffled by the pillow. 

"Pete-"

" _Sh-Shut the f-fuck up, Mr Stark!"_

The room was suddenly engulfed in a blanket of silence. Peter shot up when he realized what he had just said, a different but recognizable feeling finding its way to his stomach.

 _Guilt_ , he realized. _This_ _is_ _guilt_. 

"To-Tony?"

No reply. 

"I-I'm sorry, T-Tony." He crawled off his bed and onto the ground where his mask laid. Picking up the discarded item, he hugged it to his chest before laying on the ground, too tired to move. He curled into himself, hoping the pressure would take away the pain in his chest. 

"Pl-Please for-forgive m-me," Peter whispered to the mask. "I didn't m-mean to up-upset you."

"You're forgiven, kid," he heard the mask reply. "Always."

He shook his head, tears streaming down his face. "No-Not a-always."

The AI didn't reply, so Peter cried himself to sleep, the mask still clutched tightly in his hand. 

 

* * *

 

Peter padded into the hospital near Stark Tower days late, the mask in his school bag. He walked over to the receptionist and smiled sickly sweet. "H-Hey, Lorenzo."

The older man gave him an unimpressed look. "It's Liam."

With a hand on his chin, he shook his head- that smile was still on his face. "I don't think i-it is, L-Leny."

Liam rolled his eyes, so Peter continued. "I-I mean, I could b-be wr-wrong. But I don't think it'll e-ever be your n-name until you learn to call girls by-by their act-atcual names. You know, not th-things like 'babes' and 'sweetheart'. A-Am I right?"

"You're really annoying, kid."

"I-I am? Oh, I did-didn't notice at all."

"Your stutter is annoying, too."

"Ah, so f-first you're a pervert and th-then you m-make fu-fun of the traumatically sca-scarred?" Peter smiles, all teeth and no humor. "Can you get any b-better, Lord Voldemort?"

The receptionist rolled his eyes again, but before he could think of a retort, the door behind him opened and his therapist, Dr. Ahmed came out. "You can come in now, Peter."

"Al-Alright, Doctor. B-Bye, Low-lying m-motherfucker."

" _Peter_."

"But he's a-an asshole!"

Dr. Ahmed leads him into her office and shuts the door behind her. "You shouldn't talk to him like that, you know."

Peter rolled his eyes. "Didn't h-he once ma-make fun of y-your hijab?"

"We're trying to find a new receptionist, if that's what you're concerned about," she replied blankly; nevertheless, he could see the emotion whirling behind her eyes. "But not many people are lining up to work full time in a mental health facility." The woman sat down in her seat and smiled. "So, how are you?"

Peter looked around her room and tried to distract himself with the various colorful decorations adorning her room. He can honestly say he's never seen a room filled with so many blankets, bean bags, pillows and fairy lights in his life. In the corner, there was a basket filled with Play-Doh, Silly Putty and other obscure objects that can be fiddled with.

It wasn’t surprising that Dr. Montez was the one with such a vibrant and unusual room; even she looked adorned with color in her bright hijab and blue eyes. She never wore a lab coat- it was probably too plain for her taste- instead wearing loose-fitting attire in other various colors. Unexpectedly, her nails were always bear.

(He figured it had something to do with Islam, but he was too introverted to ask.)

Peter took the Silly Putty from the box and plopped down on a pink leather beanbag. "F-fine."

"That doesn't sound fine."

He rolled his eyes and opened the Putty box. "Sorry, le-let me rephrase. Fine f-for a k-kid going through t-trauma about losing a th-third f-father figure in the span of seven-seventeen years."

"Why are you so tense today? First there's the Liam thing, and now this."

A sigh involuntarily escaped his lips. "I...I don't kn-know why I'm on e-edge," he admitted, "but for s-some reason I a-am."

It was a bit concerning that he didn't notice himself set down the Putty and reach into his bag for the mask. Dr. Ahmed eyed it as he took it out but didn't say anything. 

He hugged the latex material to his chest and sighed. "It-It's just hard, I-I guess."

Peter didn't feel the tears roll down his face until Dr. Ahmed was passing him a tissue.

 

* * *

 

Sitting on the roof of his apartment block instead of in his room was weird enough. Having the mask in his hand- and knowing that when he would put it on, he would hear Tony's voice- was even weirder. 

Nonetheless, he ignored his shaking hands and slipped the mask over his head. 

"T-Tony?" Peter asked meekly. 

"Hey, kid! You're back," the cheerful AI greeted him.

Peter's heart tugged at the sound of his mentor's voice. "Yeah. M-My therapist told me th-this might actually be a g-good thing."

"Dr. Montez?"

The question startled him. He got up from the edge and paced. "Y-Yeah. How'd y-you kn-know?"

"I'm an AI now, Peter. I know _all_ your secrets," Tony replied, and Peter could hear the amusement in his tone. A laugh couldn't help but escape his lips and his shoulders sagged in relief. Of course.

"Th-That's c-creepy, Tony."

"But true."

"Y-Yeah." Peter stopped pacing and sat down on the floor. His attention shifted to his twiddling fingers as a wave of nostalgia and guilt washed over him. _I shouldn't be joking with him. He's an AI. He isn't real._ Peter took a sharp breath and spoke. "Hey T-Tony?"

"Yeah, kid?" The AI sounded concerned, and that's all it took for Peter to burst into tears. He balled his hands into fists and pressed them into his eyes; he tugged at the roots of his hair and clenched his teeth. That didn't stop the scream that tore from his lips. 

"Pete?"

"I m _-_ miss you s-so-so _much,_ " he sobbed, hugging his knees. "So m-much, Mr-Mr. Stark. "

Tony didn't reply, but Peter could imagine that if he were here, he would take the kid's hand in his own. Peter reached out to his side and pretended the man was here to do so- and tried not to be disappointed when no hand grabbed his own.

"P-Pepper m-misses you," he continued. "So do-does M-Morgan, even tho-though she's n-never really met-met you." He caught his breath.

"H-Ha-Happy, to-too. Colonel R-Rhodes. Even Ma-May. It's no-not r-really the s-same w-without you-you here. A-And I know it's b-been too lo-long to keep miss-missing you. Two months. B-But it feels like any d-day you could still-still c-come back, and that's w-what hurts more th-than anything." His voice broke at the end, and he couldn't help but bury his head into his knees; a clenched fist of his found its way to his chest, and he pressed it there, willing- _praying, begging, pleading_ \- for the pain to stop. 

"Why'd you d-do it?" he asked, his voice muffled from his jeans. "You c-co-could've just t-turned back t-time with the time st-stone and then-then left th-th-them. Why d-did you have to d-destroy th-them? Why d-did _you_ have to d-destroy them?"

The AI finally spoke. "I hate to break it to you, kid, but I don't know."

Peter's heart fell. He slowly took off the mask and whispered, "Y-Yeah. I kn-know."

 

* * *

 

With the mask clutched into his hand, Peter tried to fall asleep. When he couldn't, he whispered to the latex piece of clothing what was weighing on his mind. 

"I don't- I don't know how t-to forgive y-you."

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! i'm really sorry i haven't posted anything new :( 
> 
> i kinda had to take a break because my mental health was sorta spiraling. it's still kinda spiraling. but I'm writing sad fanfiction as a coping mechanism so dw!
> 
> also this is a series :)
> 
> also, I love khalid. man like, I don't usually like pop music, but his new music is dope.
> 
> also, I CHANGED MY USERNAME! I used to be wrxterpxrker but now im strandedonthemoon :)
> 
> kudos and comment?
> 
> thanks for reading!


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